Saturday, August 2, 2014

If you're a penguin, I'm a penguin

It's a little later than I like, because it's not good to stay up later than past oh...about 10:30 max because "they" say your cortisol levels rise if you don't get a good nights sleep. I'm not sure my cortisol levels are appeased merely because I've had a good nights sleep, although it curbs my crabbiness the next day. It's helpful for everyone who see me on a daily basis if I'm well slept and well fed and even for me, I'm less critical of myself and less doubtful. All this to say, I'm up writing because I don't want this moment to pass, this moment of feeling supremely lovely and grounded because a little boy, who is supremely lovely himself, wants me more than anyone on earth right now.  I've been at a wedding this evening and for a while, Jude was able to say, "mom, I'll go to hami's (grandma's) house and I'm not gonna cry. I'll see you tomorrow." I was proud of him, but a little sad that he wasn't at all fazed that I had left him for the night and I missed him more than he missed me. It starts here, I thought, where I'm waiting for his call, and when he finally calls me, I say "call your mother more often." He then sighs and says, "okay mom, but I gotta go now, I'm at work." I dread that conversation.

I got a text at 10:01 pm from my mom saying, "Jude is crying for you and he won't go to sleep. He says he can't sleep without you. Can you call him and tell him it's okay?" We had planned to keep him at my mom's house for the night so we can dance, drink, get some greasy food at the end of the night and in the morning, we can leisurely wake up parched and with a mild headache, and make our way to pick up our precious boy with coffee in tow. I wasn't at all annoyed or put out by the text, because when I called and heard my little boy's voice on the end of the phone, he sounded so little and so far away, I couldn't get to my mom's fast enough. At that moment, no one else loved me more and wanted me more than Jude, and perhaps, no has ever loved or wanted me that way ever. I raced to him because I'm a little selfish and I wanted to see him run with glowing face, and his feet as fast as it can carry him into my arms. It was just as I imagined...and as soon as he got into the car, he had fallen fast asleep because he felt safe, whole and right where he's suppose to be. I felt happy about that...that he has someone to run to, a place where he feels safe, his place of comfort and that it's with me.

I think he felt a little guilty that he wasn't brave enough to last the night and into the morning without me, because he asked me from the back seat of our car, "mommy, are you happy?" He asks me this when he suspects he's in trouble or if I seem a little grumpy. I say, "yes, baby cakes, I'm so happy to see you," and before he fell fast asleep he says, "me too." I know he's just a baby and most of his love and want for me is his need for a mother, like every child, but moments like this, in the silence that follow the words, "me too," I am certain that he was made for me and I was made for him.